Code Geass: Blood and Ice
by WanderingStudent
Summary: Code Geass/Mortal Kombat crossover. Lelouch Lamperouge believed he would die unfulfilled in his goal to destroy Britannia - until he stumbles upon a startling, unnatural ability, one that will start him down the road to his revenge. However - this road is not so easily traveled.
1. Episode 1 - The Calm - Part 1

_Imperial Calendar Year 1965._

* * *

His shoes were too tight.

That was the first thing that occurred to Charles, as he stepped out into the gardens. It slowly dawned on the young boy that his tunic seemed to be cutting off his air supply as well; the tailors his mother had employed always seemed to stitch the collar too close. The fair-haired boy tugged at his collar, his nose wrinkling.

This time, he resolved to let Mother know, and then new, better tailors would arrive.

The control Charles was afforded, despite his young age, was a constant reassurance against a world that often frightened and dissuaded him. Even when he was hundreds of miles away from Pendragon, nestled in the comfort of the family villa, he could still feel the legions of bloodthirsty relatives breathing down his neck.

His brother, however, was nowhere near as fearful, daring to remain outside the villa grounds for hours at a time, to the chagrin of both Mother and her bodyguards. Vincent braved both the outside world and the courts without hesitation, appearing almost blissfully ignorant of the dangers that awaited him.

Even now, as he raced towards Charles, he was carefree – dashing across the garden with moussed platinum-blonde hair and grass-stained trousers.

"Brother!" Vincent called. "Charles! Come on!"

Charles tilted his head, his confusion plain for all to see.

"…Why?" he asked, almost inaudible in his curiosity.

"I've found someone!"

 _Someone…That can't be good. What if it's another of Mother's enemies? Or an assassin, or a terrorist, or -_

Any further thoughts were strangled in the crib as Charles was tugged by the wrist, back across the gardens by his brother.

"Vincent! Stop!" The boy whined, tugging fruitlessly at his brother's firm grip.

"You _have_ to see him, brother! I've found a _giant_!" Vincent replied, his voice bright with youthful delight. Charles frowned, quieting as his brother guided him towards the back of the gardens.

 _A…giant?_

"W – What do you mean _a giant_?" Charles asked, and watched as his brother moved away from him, to unlock the large gate blocking their passage into the forest beyond.

"I mean, he's massive! Far taller than Father!" his brother grunted, as he pulled up the bolts holding the gate in place.

 _Now that's ridiculous. No one's taller than the Emperor._

The rusted gate swung open with a pained whine, and Charles stepped back – the forest behind the villa was expansive, and the heavy foliage meant much of it was shadowed – but that didn't stop Vincent from grabbing his wrist once more, and pulling him along into the forest with a giggle.

"So where is this giant?" Charles asked, before letting out a gasp as his foot snagged on a rock. As he regained his footing, Vincent pointed into the darkened depths of the forest and appeared to squint for a moment.

"He's in there! Not far, I promise!" he chirped.

Charles nodded weakly, attempting to keep pace with his brother as the ground grew more and more uneven, the sunlight blotted out by the thick vegetation and only coming through in narrow streams of gold.

True to his brother's word, he could make out the form of _something_ slumped against the base of a large oak tree. As he and Vincent drew closer and closer, Charles could discern more and more of the so-called giant.

Figure draped almost entirely in a heavy brown cloak, hood drawn up over their face, the giant barely stirred as Charles and Vincent approached, dry leaves and twigs crumpling underneath their feet. Only a few meters away now, Vincent crouched down, leaning in with curiosity, whilst his brother lingered behind, apprehensive.

Even slumped, the giant's size was obvious to Charles – its frame was wide underneath the cloak, and massive calves and feet protruded out from the cloth.

 _Maybe he is bigger than the Emperor._

"Vincent – I wouldn't get too close..." Charles murmured, watching as his brother shuffled closer.

"But I'm not you, brother…" Vincent replied.

"He could be dangerous!" Charles hissed, reaching out and grabbing the other boy's shoulder, at the same time that new rays of sunlight broke through the trees, illuminating rivulets of crimson streaming from the unmoving form.

Charles' eyes widened and he swallowed his fear – for the moment, at least. He inched closer, beside his brother and knelt down, inspecting the blood that was pooling beneath the stranger.

 _He's hurt!_

"H – Hello? Can you hear me?" The boy called, quietly. The figure barely stirred, a low rumble emanating from their throat.

"Raise your voice! I don't think he heard you!" Vincent whispered into his ear, and Charles hesitated, before doing so.

"Hello – are you hurt? Are you –" Charles' voice died in his throat as the stranger raised their head, slowly.

Eyes, bright orange like burning coals, stared out from underneath the tattered, worn hood. The gaze was lidded with fatigue, but it was enough to make the two boys recoil, a gasp of fear escaping Vincent. However, Charles was not deterred, and dared to move closer once more, even as the figure's hellish gaze met his again.

"M – My name's Charles," the boy stammered out, and then indicated his brother. "He's Vincent."

He then knelt down, his leggings staining red from the stranger's blood. "You're hurt. Can we…help you?"

Orange eyes regarded him for several seconds, their owner silent. Finally, the stranger made a grunt of what Charles hoped was affirmation, his eyes closing as he leant back against the tree.

The boy nodded, and moved closer, even as Vincent spoke again, fearful now.

"Charles – we should go back."

"Why?" Charles replied, glancing back at his brother. "We should help him. Besides, you brought us here – you were excited to see him, weren't you?"

"Yes, but –" Vincent drifted off, watching with bated breath as his brother approached the still figure.

Charles himself could barely restrain a shiver of apprehension as he reached out, hesitantly. He dared to clasp the fabric of the hood that hid the stranger's face in shadow, and pushed it back -

* * *

 _On August 10_ _th_ _, in the year 2010 of the Imperial Calendar, The Holy Britannian Empire declared war upon Japan. The eastern island nation had held fast to its neutrality despite the Empire's expansive campaign – but now Britannia loomed as the world's only superpower._

 _Rights to Japan's underground resources became a hotly disputed issue, only serving to further strain relations between the two nations._

 _In the deciding battle for the mainland, the Empire unveiled its newest weapon – the humanoid autonomous armoured knight, known as the Knightmare Frame. Britannia's forces were far greater than predicted, and Japan's lines of defence were crushed with little effort._

 _The nation was subjugated – its people and culture merged into the Britannian conglomeration. Becoming a dominion of the Empire in all but name, Japan was forced into silent servitude of the Empire, its resources monopolised and its people forced to live alongside their conquerors._

 _Years later, the status quo remains unchanged – many Japanese choose to live in blissful ignorance, going on with their lives – yet there are those who have sworn to fight the Empire, either for their independence - or for their revenge._

* * *

 _Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

 _Imperial Calendar Year 2017._

* * *

"I don't like it."

"Well, I don't care – we're already here."

"We are dealing with _criminals_!"

"We've been dealing with these guys for months! You're only whining about it _now,_ Kallen?"

"I'm whining because we're on _their_ turf, Nagata! Even if they don't kill us for looking at them the wrong way, they'll probably bleed us dry of money! We can't bargain with our backs to the wall!"

Naoto Stadtfeld glanced between the two arguing in front of him, exasperated.

His younger sister, Kallen, shared his dark red hair and blue eyes, but whilst his hair fell to his shoulders, her had been styled to flare out at the back and sides. She was of average height, and her brown and crimson outfit exposed a toned midriff and defined arms.

Takeshi Nagata, to contrast, was a tall, rakish man – covered almost completely with a thick, dark jacket, jeans, and heavy boots. The man had sharp features, and black hair fell down his back.

Both of them had been at each other's throats the entire length of the journey over.

 _Non-stop, in the van, back and forth, back and forth…I just wanted to listen to my mixtape. I take it that's far too much to ask for._

"Hey," Naoto hissed, frustrated. "Careful with your names around here. Don't know what these people could do with that information if we cross them."

All three of them wore the same crimson headbands, and simple black masks drawn up over their mouth and nose to mask their identities.

Their surroundings were metallic, cramped – lit lowly by neon lights hanging overhead. Occasionally, someone would pass the small group by, almost always staring at them for several moments with suspicion as they passed by.

"It was _your_ decision to go to the Black Dragon, not mine," Nagata murmured. "Don't chew me out because you're suddenly getting cold feet as well, Naoto."

Underneath his mask, Naoto scowled. "It was my decision. But this is the only place in Tokyo, the only place in all of Japan, probably, where we can get weapons, get _Knightmares_ – with a minimum of fuss and danger."

"Minimum of fuss and danger? Are you shitting me?" Kallen interjected, one eyebrow cocked in incredulity. "You hear about the Black Dragon on military chatter, on police scanners! And we're their faithful customers, feeding them more and more money so they can go on doing god knows what!"

"Quiet!" Naoto barked, fists clenching. His sister backed up slightly, eyes narrowed, and he let out a breath, running one hand through his hair. His other hand clutched the handle of a nondescript black briefcase.

"Look…these are…dangerous circumstances, yeah. But as long as we keep it simple, we don't make a scene, we'll be alright. We'll just pay, and get out. Okay?" He looked between the two, watching as both Kallen and Nagata nodded haltingly.

"Okay," Kallen echoed.

"Good," Naoto murmured. "Now follow me."

The three stalked down twisting, narrow corridors, keeping as much distance between them and any others they happened to pass on the way.

Finally, they came to a single, inconspicuous door, with a pane of frosted glass providing a distorted look into what appeared to be an office, with three figures inside – two on either side of a desk, and one sitting behind, their back to the door.

Naoto reached out, and rapped on the door sharply – he saw the two figures beside the desk shift, facing the door, and it was then that he chose to enter, twisting the doorknob and pushing forward, slow and tentative.

 _It just looks like an old door, that's all. Don't want to be too forceful with it._

Stepping in with Kallen and Nagata close behind, Naoto glanced around the office quickly – it was a mishmash of the conventional and the abnormal, filing cabinets placed alongside crates of weaponry and equipment.

Behind the figure sitting in the chair, a crimson banner hung from the wall, displaying a black emblem – a single dagger, surrounded by twin dragons, one on each side, facing away, their tails coiled back against the dagger's tip.

On the right side of the desk, stood a fairly tall man – wearing a heavy crimson jacket. His dark hair was closely shorn in a buzzcut, and a small soul patch stood out on his chin. As he looked over Naoto and his group, he sneered.

To the left side of the desk, was someone who made him seem far smaller.

Coming close to seven feet tall, the second man's features were hidden behind a bronzed metal mask that covered his mouth and nose, and further shadowed by the hood of his brown sleeveless sweatshirt, the fabric stretched taut over a heavily muscled torso.

Despite the intimidating company, Naoto kept a straight face – he could only hope that Kallen and Nagata could do the same.

"We're here to pay," Naoto suddenly blurted out, surprised at his own forwardness. "For the order from two weeks ago."

The smaller man stepped forward, and held out a hand expectantly. Naoto nodded, and handed the briefcase over. It was then taken by the man, and set on the desk. With a _click,_ it was opened, revealing the immense amount of cash inside.

The case was then taken around the desk, and shown to the figure sitting in the chair, who made barely a sound before the case was closed again, and set to the side of the desk.

"Payment's good," the smaller man said, returning to his position once more. "You'll be escorted to a supply truck loaded with your merchandise –"

"Not yet," came a low, Australian drawl.

Naoto's eyes narrowed as the chair behind the desk swivelled around, and then widened as he took in the sight of the man before him.

He was heavily built, wearing an open tan vest that exposed his tattooed chest and arms. His hair was dark and close-cropped, sideburns trailing down into a short boxed beard. A bandolier of sorts was slung across his torso, from his left shoulder to his right side. Mounted on it, over the man's heart, was a pulsating red light. However, that was far from the most alarming aspect.

The man's right eye was _gone._ In its place was a glowing red orb, surrounded by metal plate that covered the upper-right quarter of his face. Naoto squinted – it seemed like the metal had actually been _implanted_ into his head, crawling all the way back into his hairline.

"Distracting, ain't it?"

Naoto flinched as the man spoke again, leaning back in his chair with a grin. He rapped the metal plate lightly with a knuckle.

"Had it for years, now, after some military shithead knocked the real one out. Makes a good conversation starter, though," he chuckled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. "Speaking of conversations – bet you're wondering why we're keeping you a little longer."

"The thought occurred to me," Naoto murmured. Behind him, Nagata shifted nervously on the spot, glancing between the red-eyed man and his two accomplices. Kallen remained ramrod straight, gazing ahead.

"I just thought that it'd be polite – to greet some of the Black Dragon's newest customers in person," the man continued. He seemed amiable, in his way – but Naoto knew better, judging from both his outlandish appearance and the company he kept. Kallen suddenly interjected, moving forward beside her brother.

"And you are?" she asked, curt.

"Kano. A pleasure," he replied, bowing his head slightly. Naoto tried to keep himself silent, controlled.

 _This is Kano? Why the hell would he come here? The Black Dragon must run thousands of deals every year, and it'd be too dangerous to have their leader appear at every single one._

 _Which means there's something about this deal that's different._

… _Oh, God._

 _No._

 _They found out._

Swallowing, Naoto straightened up as Kano took a moment to fish through one of the drawers in his desk. Finally, he withdrew a series of papers, slapping them down on the desk and picking up the first sheet for inspection.

As he scanned the page, he smirked, glancing between the group and the paper.

"Seems like you've got quite the appetite," Kano mused, and then began to read off the list of ordered goods printed on the sheet. "Let's see…two crates of M5 Carbines, and ammunition…a crate of sidearms, and the ammunition…ten grenade launchers and a crate of ordinance…and this is my favourite part right here."

Kano leant forward, and looked up at Naoto as he read the words on the page, eyebrow cocked in amusement.

"Three Knightmares. _Three,"_ he said, apparently entertained. "Burai-types, along with all the trimmings – energy fillers, Knightmare rifles, and maintenance equipment."

The paper slapped back onto the desk, and Naoto flinched.

"Fighting a war, are we?"

"You might say that," Naoto said, mentally cursing the tremor in his voice. Kallen narrowed her eyes beside him – she noticed.

"This is very expensive equipment that's changing hands here…and I'm impressed you're able to pay for all of this upfront," Kano said, taking the papers and shoving them back into the drawer. He leant back as he scrutinised Naoto and his group, his cybernetic eye glinting.

"Well, we have deep pockets," Naoto replied.

 _That is to say, the Stadtfeld Consortium does._

"I'm a little surprised – you're just…small-time insurrectionists, no?" Kano asked, and Kallen bristled – but before she could open her mouth, Nagata was already speaking.

"We're not small-time," he hissed. "We're the ones who are gonna put things _right._ Britannia beats us into the dirt, picks us back up, forces us to make nice with them – and they expect us to pretend like nothing happened? Bull _shit_."

Kano didn't reply immediately, instead grunting. He turned his gaze back to Naoto.

"Your man here has a lot of anger. Might want to watch his tone, though," he murmured, and watched as Nagata stepped back, face still twisted with frustration.

"He's sorry. It was a long drive over," Naoto supplied.

 _We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. Maybe they don't know, not yet. There's still time to stop this shitstorm before it begins._

"And on that, I think it's time to go. With respect, Mister…Kano." Naoto bowed low, Kallen and Nagata following suite a second later.

"Thank you for your time," he added, turning to head for the door.

"Tremor," Kano muttered, and before Naoto and the others could leave, the massive man in the hood and mask had stepped in front of the door, his wide frame barring exit.

"There is another matter we need to talk about," Kano said, gesturing to a spot in front of his desk.

As Kallen and Nagata's faces flashed with confusion and a hint of fear, Naoto paled.

 _Shit._

* * *

 **What's this? It looks like another crossover fic. This is an idea I've been brainstorming for the better part of a year, and I'm very happy to bring you the first glimpses of it.**

 **I hope I can do right by both franchises, and I hope you'll stick with me on this new journey - we're going to go places.**


	2. Episode 1 - The Calm - Part 2

_Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

Blood painted the gaudy green of striking gloves, as the fists they protected crashed into a face, again, and again. The unfortunate victim was sent stumbling back across the ring, and gasped as he crashed against the wire fencing.

He was by no means unfit, but there was more flab where there should have been muscle, and he wasn't as young as he once was. Grey at the temples, his fair hair hanging in front of his face, sweat dripping down and mixing with the blood that spotted his chest. Across from him, his opponent approached, grinning with triumph.

Hair slicked back with gel, a few strands loose despite, with plucked eyebrows and a face unblemished save for a small bruise where the man had gotten a lucky shot, the nobleman threw a savage, untrained hook, more red dotting the mat as the victim began to slump against the fence.

There was strength in his arms and chest despite the fat that years of rich food and wine had built up. Combined with the adrenaline thundering through his veins, and the ruthless abandon borne of arrogance, the nobleman seemed like a monstrous opponent to the other fighter.

With a shout, the noble began to land blow after blow on his opponent, ruthlessly battering his face and pounding on forearms until they dropped whenever the man made an attempt to block.

Outside of the ring, several dark suited men kept watch, scanning the expanse of the darkened club.

Despite the fact that it hosted an arena, it appeared genial enough – richly coloured carpeting, a fully stocked bar – for all intents and purposes, a simple club for bluebloods to gather at, and relax.

Whilst one of their own gleefully asserted themselves by beating others half to death.

"Getting tired?" the noble barked, pulling back for a moment and scrutinising his opponent – bloodied, bruised, a little unsteady on their feet, but not dropping their guard just yet. He simply snarled, baring a blood-soaked mouthguard, and the noble growled, moving to attack once more.

Across the club, double doors were pushed open, light flooding in as two figures stepped in. On reflex, the many bodyguards straightened up, prepared for a possible confrontation.

"What's this?" the nobleman asked, stepping away from his opponent, and squinting to see the two new arrivals. He smirked, and then glanced back at the beaten man.

"Looks like your substitute just arrived – lucky you," he murmured, then gestured for one of his bodyguards. "Let him out of the cage!" the noble commanded, watching as a portion of the cage fence was slid back. With a gasp, his opponent staggered towards the exit, barely managing to avoid falling down the steps as he left.

"Thanks," the man managed, as he padded over to the two figures. "Everything good at school?"

Inside the cage, the nobleman's eyebrows rose. "What have we here? _Schoolboys?_ "

"What have we here – _a nobleman_ ," one of the two teenagers echoed, with a calm, measured tone. His hair was jet black, framing his face and falling between his eyes, his features sharp and his skin pale, and his eyes were a melancholy lavender, narrowed as he focused on the noble in the cage. The black and gold blazer he wore was stretched over broad shoulders, and as he removed it, he revealed a white dress shirt, pulled taut over an athletic torso.

"I envy the young – you have so much time on your hands," the noble mused, as the schoolboy began to unbutton his shirt. "And you choose to spend it in places like this? What's your name?"

"Lelouch. Lamperouge," came the reply, as the dress shirt was handed to the person beside the owner – another teenager, wearing the same uniform, with wild blue hair and large grey eyes. The teenager stepped forward, eyes widening as he looked the noble over.

"I don't know about this, man – he looks pretty big," he murmured.

"They're all big, Rivalz," Lelouch replied, toeing out of his shoes and socks.

Beside them, the battered fighter staggered out, but not before clapping Lelouch on the shoulder.

"Thanks. Consider yourself always welcome at my gym," the man managed.

"Thank you," Lelouch replied, succinct, glancing back as the man slowly shrugged into a worn, open shirt, and headed for the exit of the club. "Rivalz – legguards, please." He crouched down, and began to roll his uniform trousers up to his knees.

"Yeah – here…" The other teenager handed two deep blue legguards to Lelouch, who accepted them, strapping them on methodically.

"Gloves."

"Here," Rivalz handed out a pair of black and blue striking gloves, his gaze returning to the ring as his friend donned them.

"All right…" Lelouch breathed, and made fists, the material of his gloves creaking quietly. He began to step towards the ring, and the sneering noble inside. "This won't take long, Rivalz," He called back to his friend.

The noble let out a harsh, barking laugh as the teenager stepped into the cage, the bodyguards sealing it shut behind him.

"Such youthful arrogance. It's refreshing, in a place like this," The nobleman chuckled, raising his fists in front of him.

In response, Lelouch offered only a simple, pleasant smile, before opening his mouth to insert a mouthguard.

* * *

"As the only supplier on the black market who has the resources to supply Knightmare Frames in such quantities, we Black Dragon take pride in offering a certain level of quality. Understand?" Kano asked, leaning across the table.

Naoto nodded stiffly.

"We hate to offer our buyers outdated merchandise – we prefer to sell the more recent Burai-types, and even Sutherlands when we can acquire them. However, we don't just dispose of our old stock, of course."

"Of course."

"Still worth quite a bit, those old models. For Knightpolice, or even for scrap," Kano continued, very much aware of how his client was growing increasingly tense. "We're still moving a lot of our old stock to storage facilities at the moment, actually. Whenever we can – we try to keep it regular, though."

Naoto remained silent, instead staring ahead blankly.

 _They know. They know and they're gonna kill us all, right here._

 _Because of me, my baby sister's gonna die._

"Two months ago, one of our transports was intercepted – held up. My men were knocked out, and when they came to, some of their stock was missing."

Kano paused, and leant back in his chair, meeting Naoto's gaze.

"I don't suppose you can guess what went missing?" The Black Dragon inquired, lips curled in a dark smile.

"Don't think I can," Naoto murmured.

 _There has to be some way to get Kallen out of here. Maybe Nagata as well._

"Well – don't worry. I'll fill in the blanks for you, mate. It was a Knightmare – an old Glasgow type. Red one. Energy fillers were gone too. Quite a loss."

Kallen's eyes widened, and she went rigid with shock, turning to face her brother.

"You didn't…" She murmured, disbelieving.

"I'm – I'm sorry. But we _needed_ that thing," Naoto said, haltingly. In front of them, Kano leant forward once more, one hand disappearing beneath the desk.

"Now – here's the thing, mate – _no one_ steals from the Black Dragon. It's something you just don't do," Kano went on. A metallic scraping was audible for a brief second, and moments later, he placed a large, threatening knife on the desk, fingers inches away from it.

"But, since you've been such a model customer – paying upfront, for such a large amount – I think we can come to an agreement, right?"

"What kind of agreement?" Naoto murmured, tone cautious.

"Simple – that girl, for the Glasgow," Kano indicated Kallen with a nod of his head – she bristled in response, eyes blazing with anger. "Seems fair enough."

 _No chance in hell._

"…Can I have some time to think it over?" Naoto asked, not missing Kallen's shocked gasp.

"Sorry, mate. Now or never."

"Thought so," Naoto sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose for a moment.

Suddenly, he lunged forward, putting all his weight behind a powerful front kick that sent the desk crashing into Kano. It tipped over onto the man, sending papers flying and drawers crashing onto the ground.

Naoto turned, but already, Tremor and the other man were upon them, the former still in front of the doorway. Kallen lunged for him, ignorant of her brother's shout of concern.

The mammoth of a man wasn't the fastest – but when one was as strong as he, speed didn't always matter. Kallen peppered his form with quick jabs and leg kicks, trying to open him up for a takedown, but he couldn't be moved, despite the redhead's vicious offence.

With a cry, the girl lunged forward, putting all of her weight behind a powerful, telegraphed roundhouse – it was blocked, and Kallen wheezed as a huge fist slammed into her solar plexus.

Nagata and Naoto were already attempting to subdue Kano's other lieutenant, but they weren't fast enough, couldn't get any powerful hits in despite their strength in numbers.

Kano groaned from underneath the desk, and Naoto disengaged for a moment to stomp on it, to keep him down – but Kallen slammed into his back, knocking him off balance.

As he stumbled forward, he caught sight of Kano's knife, lying on the ground, and reached for it – his fingers seized the handle, and he hurled it at Tremor, who lunged to the side to avoid the blade.

Without hesitation, Naoto leapt forward, tackling him against a filing cabinet. As the two combatants went to the ground, Naoto roared out.

"Run! _Now!_ "

"But – " Kallen's attempt at argument was quelled as Nagata crashed into her, pushing her towards the empty doorway.

"We are _leaving_!" Nagata shouted, not even taking a moment to look back at his friend before he broke off into a sprint, awkwardly dragging Kallen behind him.

* * *

Despite the noble's strength and enthusiasm, Lelouch knew he'd won the moment he stepped into the ring. His opponent's moves carried power behind them, but also momentum – his lack of professional training was obvious when he threw a punch.

The teenager easily weaved out of the way, but didn't go in for the kill just yet – he wanted to see if this nobleman had anything else to offer.

Another hook came at him – which was also dodged.

 _I guess not._

The noble settled in front of him, growling. Lelouch narrowed his eyes in concentration, ready to receive whatever was thrown at him.

His opponent lunged forward, with a series of jabs – one after the other, they were deflected or parried, meeting nothing but air.

The nobleman let out a shout, and went in for another attack, but his vision suddenly blurred – Lelouch had lashed out with a straight punch, connecting solidly and with considerable strength.

He staggered back as Lelouch began to press the offense, and threw a desperate hook – the teenager turned into the attack, spinning around and bringing his elbow to meet the noble's nose.

Rewarded with a meaty _crunch_ and the sight of red trailing down the noble's face, Lelouch delivered a powerful front kick to his stomach that sent him reeling back against the cage wall. Before his opponent could raise their arms in an attempt at defence, he was upon him once more.

Each punch stronger than the last, Lelouch broke his opponent down, fists smashing against the noble's face, underneath his arms, and into his kidneys.

The noble could barely stand up as the other fighter pulled back, and leapt forward, spinning through the air – he could barely make it out through his swollen eye – and collapsed to the mat as Lelouch's shin connected solidly with the side of his head.

* * *

Naoto tried to keep his arms over his head to protect himself from the massive fists smashing across his body, but every time he did so, a blow to his abdomen would have him gasping, faltering, long enough for his attacker to begin beating him around the face.

Across the room, Kano grunted as he shoved the desk away from him, standing to his full height. He gazed at the open doorway, and at the now empty corridor beyond, before cursing, and moving beside Tremor.

"Tremor. That's enough."

The other man took no notice, continuing to batter Naoto over and over, his face horribly swollen from the assault.

"Tremor!" Kano grabbed the man's shoulders, and yanked him off his victim. The larger man let out a growl, but he quieted as his leader pointed down the corridor.

"Take Jarek with you," Kano gestured to the other man behind him, "And stop them before they can get out of the base. No one steals _anything_ from us..."

Tremor nodded slowly as he looked down the length of the corridor. Across his fists and forearms, patches of grey, mottled flesh broke out, before hardening into rock. He flexed his fingers once, then twice, before breaking out into a run down the corridor, with Jarek close behind.

Once the two enforcers were out of earshot, Kano turned, looking down at the bloodied man on the floor.

"Now…," Kano grunted, kneeling to pick up his discarded knife, eyes still on his prey, "you and I are going to have a long, detailed talk."

* * *

"What the _fuck,_ Nagata?" Kallen gasped, as the two turned another corner before breaking out into a sprint. "Why would you steal anything from these guys?"

"Shut up, just _shut up_!" Nagata hissed, dragging Kallen into a nearby alcove. He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, and let out a groan like a wounded animal, whilst Kallen stood back against the wall and let the reality of the situation crash over her, her hands shaking.

However, she was quick to compose herself, immediately pinning Nagata against the wall and all but screaming in his face.

"Listen -and listen good, Nagata," Kallen began, "it was _your_ bullshit that got us into this mess, _your_ bullshit that probably just got my brother _killed_."

Nagata attempted to speak up in protest, but Kallen forced a hand over his mouth, her blue eyes blazing with anger.

"And if we end up captured ourselves, it'll be because of _your_ bullshit. And the second I get the chance, I'll break your damn neck. _So we better not get captured._ "

The redhead stepped back, releasing her companion, and watched as he regarded her with wide eyes, before he let out a shaking breath, nodding.

"Yeah," Nagata gasped, "Alright. If we continue along that way, we should come to the vehicle bay. We might be able to find something there we can use to escape."

"Good enough," Kallen replied, before moving out of the alcove and down the corridor once more, Nagata trailing behind her.

* * *

Rivalz grinned as he picked through one of several thick wads of cash, his eyes alight with glee.

"Rivalz," Lelouch commanded, buttoning up his shirt and reaching for his discarded tie, "please close the briefcase."

The other teenager nodded, a wide grin still on his face as he closed over the briefcase with a _click._ "Sorry," Rivalz said, still giddy. "It's just – all this money! The best thing about nobles is, they always pay out of pride."

"Well, I'm glad you're so pleased," Lelouch grunted, methodically placing his gloves and shinguards inside his bag, "because you're getting half."

Rivalz nearly fainted from shock. When he'd recovered, he looked at Lelouch with wide, unbelieving eyes. "But – why?" He spluttered. "I'm not the one who got inside the cage, who did all the work – hell, all I did was drive you here!"

"I hardly need the money," Lelouch replied, picking up his blazer and sliding his arms through the sleeves, "now that I've made so much, any more would simply be excess."

Rivalz frowned. "But wait – I'm only getting half?" He looked across at his friend, who flashed him a small grin.

"It's like you said, Rivalz – I _did_ do all the work, after all," Lelouch smirked, but his expression flattened quickly. "Besides, I'm sure Ashford Academy won't be opposed to another anonymous donation." He swung his bag over his shoulder, and made his way towards the club's exit, Rivalz trailing behind.

"…I don't get it." Rivalz murmured.

"Hm?" Lelouch cocked one eyebrow as he pushed aside the double doors, and stepped out into a brightly lit atrium.

"I mean, you put yourself in there, at risk – and you don't even take the reward? You said a few months back that it was savings, for your future, and Nunnally's…" Rivalz hesitated for a moment, glancing at his friend as if seeking permission to speak his next words. "But now, there's just no point to it."

"I wouldn't call it pointless, Rivalz. At the very least, it's more experience."

"Against some fat noble? I wouldn't say that was much of a challenge," Rivalz retorted.

"Then what would you call a challenge?" Lelouch asked, interested now.

"…How about chess? You used to play non-stop. There's the intellectual challenge, isn't there?" Rivalz suggested, shrugging as the two of them stepped through automatic doors and out into the fresh air. Around them, sleek, towering buildings glittered in the midday sun, and pedestrians and workers went about their commutes.

"Chess lost its appeal for me long ago. And anyone who believes fighting isn't as much an intellectual challenge as it is a physical one, shouldn't be in the ring in the first place." Lelouch replied, sharp.

Rivalz nodded, thinking to himself for a moment. "Then," he began, "if it's a challenging fight you're looking for, why not look around some of the independent academies and dojos? There's no shortage here in Tokyo."

"True," Lelouch conceded, as the two of them approached Rivalz' scarlet motorcycle and sidecar, "but nearly all exceptional fighters are snapped up by the military as soon as word gets out about them."

"Then how come they haven't picked you up for service yet?" Rivalz asked, as he straddled the bike and reached for his helmet.

"Because I don't frequent the tournament scene. All of those fighters – they're constantly in the spotlight, winning cups and trophies – empty accolades, in my opinion." Lelouch muttered, tone derisive.

The echoing chime of the public broadcast system cut through the idle chatter of pedestrians, and all present looked up towards a massive screen mounted on a nearby building.

" **And now,"** A pleasant, female voice began, **"Her Highness, Lady Kaguya Sumeragi, Prime Minister of Japan, will address the nation."**

The image of a raven-haired, green-eyed girl, no more than fourteen at the very most, appeared on screen. Garbed in traditional Japanese formal wear, in shades of white and red, she was the picture of a culture and tradition at odds with its surroundings and circumstances.

She spoke in sickly sweet tones about the virtues of cooperation and tolerance, and how far Japan had come since the war, in technology, infrastructure, and welfare. For every man or woman that nodded along with a smile on their face, there was one who ignored or dismissed the girl's message.

Lelouch himself watched, disinterested, sitting down in the bike's sidecar.

 _Sumeragi was inserted into the government only a year ago. She's little more than a figurehead, a mouthpiece for the Britannian puppetmaster pulling her strings._

"Lelouch? You ready to go?" Rivalz asked.

"Hm?"

"You've been staring off into space for about ten seconds," the teenager said.

"Oh, sorry Rivalz. Let's go," Lelouch murmured, watching as the image of the so-called Prime Minister vanished from the screen.

* * *

 **Second chapter down, god knows how many more to go. As always, please read and review!**


	3. Episode 1 - The Calm - Part 3

_Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

The vehicle bay of the Black Dragon hideout was abuzz with activity, gang members zigzagging around each other as they carried crates and boxes filled with any and all kinds of contraband. From up on high, armed enforcers stalked metal catwalks, overseeing the affair, clad in bulletproof vests and ready to quell any disturbance with a generous application of hollowpoint ammunition.

One of the enforcers stood by a door, one leading into the rest of the building. He strained to hear something that sounded like panic – shouts and curses, getting closer by the second. Frowning, he moved closer to the door, resting his hand on the doorknob and his other on his sidearm. It was at that moment that the wooden, paint-chipped door burst open, sending him reeling back with a yell.

Kallen dashed through the doorway, and tackled the stunned gunman to the catwalk, immediately raining blows upon his face before he could get a shot off or manage a struggle. Plucking the pistol from the unconscious man's hands, Kallen sprinted along the catwalk to a flight of stairs, Nagata following closely.

Already, shouts of surprise and anger were going up, and Kallen aimed one-handed at one of the other guards on the catwalk as she moved down the stairs, firing wild warning shots. Bullets sparked and ricocheted off the railing as the duo hurled themselves off the stairs and behind the nearest available cover, a stack of heavy crates.

"So," Nagata panted, as their crated cover began to splinter from a constant stream of gunfire, "Any other bright ideas?"

"We need to get out of here –" Kallen gasped as wood chips flew by her face, and pulled back an inch.

"Yeah, no shit," Nagata replied, "But they've got our van under lock and key. No way we're getting to it."

"So we find some other way out of here," Kallen grunted, poking her gun over the crates to fire more aimless shots. "There's got to be one of these trucks we can hijack!"

"I don't see anyone handing us keys!" Nagata yelled, almost inaudible over the deafening crack of rifles and sidearms, "And they'll shoot us dead before I can hotwire anything!"

"They'll shoot us dead if we stay here any longer!" Kallen shot back.

At that moment, a cargo truck, with a sizable trailer behind it, wheeled into the vehicle bay, apparently oblivious to the raging firefight. Almost immediately, the driver ducked for cover, cowering inside the cab.

"There!" Kallen shouted, indicating the truck with a nod of her head. Nagata was steeling his nerves to make a run for the vehicle, when he realised Kallen was already sprinting towards it. Cursing, he ran after her.

Using the trailer as cover, Kallen crept up alongside the truck until she was beside the cab. Wrenching the door of the driver's side open, she levelled her gun at the unfortunate driver.

"Get the hell out!" Kallen barked, but the man seemed paralysed with fear. Kallen fired a warning shot to the right of the man's head, and he yelped, awkwardly spilling out of the other side of the cab as Kallen pulled herself in. closing the other door, and instinctively ducking low to avoid the aim of the gang members, Kallen watched as Nagata pulled himself into the driver's seat, closing the door behind him. His hands flitted over the dashboard for a moment, the man murmuring to himself.

"Stick shift, four wheel drive…keys still in, good…"

A bullet ricocheted off the passenger side window frame, and she yelped, before turning to Nagata. "C'mon, let's go!" she yelled. Nagata gave the keys a hard turn, and the engine rumbled to life.

Back on the catwalk, Tremor and Jarek emerged from the doorway. Upon seeing the truck begin to reverse out of the vehicle bay, Tremor growled, and leapt down from the catwalk. As he landed on the ground, the earth shook, the concrete beneath his feet cracking.

Inside the cab, Kallen's eyes widened, and she grit her teeth.

 _Not him again…_

"Nagata! Drive!" The redhead shouted, and Nagata slammed his foot down on the accelerator, the truck moving backwards out of the bay, tires squealing.

Tremor dashed forward, and punched out – the ground quaked for a moment, before large, earthen stalagmites erupted through the concrete, punching through the ground towards the reversing truck.

"Oh, _shit!"_ Nagata yelled, as a spike burst up from beneath, only managing to sheer part of the front grille off. The truck sped backwards, and Nagata jerked the wheel harshly, putting the truck into a fierce u-turn that left Kallen plastered against the passenger side door. As soon as he could, Nagata stepped on the accelerator again, and the truck sped down the road away from the hideout.

"What – what the hell was _that_?" Kallen gasped, eyes wide as the truck barrelled down the road.

"Hell if I know. I think - I think he threw rocks at us?" Nagata panted, as Kallen frantically scanned the road ahead for any familiar landmarks.

 _Which way did we come from? Shit, I was too busy arguing with Nagata when we came this way…it was Naoto who did – did the driving…_

Kallen suddenly quieted as the events of the past hour came racing back to her in a flash.

 _We just…left him there…_

"-en, you with me? Kallen!"

Nagata's voice broke through her shocked daze, but it did nothing to dispel the sickly feeling in her stomach, or the hot tears brimming in her eyes.

"Y-yeah," She answered, voice hoarse.

"Alright," Nagata murmured, tugging down his mask, Kallen doing the same soon after, "We're going to need get downtown, and then ditch this thing and get into contact with Ohgi or something."

The name of Kallen's mentor only served to further stir the broiling dread inside her stomach.

 _How am I going to explain this to Ohgi? To the others?_

 _What the hell am I gonna tell Mom and Dad?_

* * *

Kano stepped through the ruins of the vehicle bay, face twisted with anger. Much of the merchandise had been either destroyed or damaged in the firefight, and Tremor's last ditch attempt to stop the fleeing pair hadn't helped in the slightest.

He made his way over to one of his men, who was working with a few others to take inventory of their remaining stock. As soon as they saw Kano approaching, they turned, acknowledging him.

"Sir," the lead man addressed him.

"How much did we lose?" Kano asked, voice tired – he'd worn himself out working that man over in his office, and he had the blood crusted under his fingernails to prove it.

"We're still taking stock at the moment, but for now, it seems like we've lost five crates of carbines, two grenade caches that we need to dispose of soon, the pins may have been damaged – as well as the contents of the truck that was stolen."

"Run it by me," Kano grumbled, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose.

 _This is a clusterfuck and a half._

"There wasn't much in it, sir, except for a few energy fillers and…an unmarked package, marked as important."

Kano's one natural eye shot open, horrible realisation sending a chill down his spine. He gritted his teeth, before pointing to the gang member beside him.

"You," he grunted, "Get a techie to track the beacon inside that truck."

Kano fished in his trouser pocket for his phone, cursing loudly as he withdrew fragments of shattered plastic and glass.

 _Bastard must have broken it during the fight._

The assembled men exchanged bemused glances, before flinching violently as Kano snapped at them.

"Give me a phone. _Now!_ "

Immediately, three phones were offered – Kano snatched the closest one, quickly dialling in a number, before storming off to an isolated, darkened section of the vehicle bay, his cybernetic eye glinting scarlet in the shadows.

* * *

Clovis la Britannia was nothing if not opulent. His vast office was filled with the finest furniture, the most expensive rugs, and the most beautiful works of art – all painted by himself of course – and expansive, glittering windows offering a glimpse out into the city beyond the walls of the palace.

However, that was nothing compared to the man himself; garbed in a rich purple coat embroidered with fine golden thread, a white silk cravat and unblemished white gloves, with voluminous blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, and a seemingly flawless complexion, enhanced with the slightest touch of makeup.

The prince of Britannia was currently engaged in a phone call, holding the handset to his ear disinterestedly as he slouched in his chair. A tone informed him that he had a call waiting on another line, and he frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Clovis said, falsely apologetic, "I'll need to call you back." The prince pressed a button on the handset before lifting it to his ear again.

"La Britannia," He grunted. "Who is –"

"I hope you haven't forgotten me already, your highness." Kano's brash, Australian drawl had the Prince sitting up straight in his seat, fingers clenching around the handset so hard the plastic creaked.

"You're not meant to call the palace directly," Clovis hissed, sapphire gaze fixed on the door.

"Yeah, well, this is something of an urgent matter," Kano replied, his tone sharp. "The delivery was intercepted – the truck's being driven into downtown."

Clovis' breath caught in his throat, and he grimaced.

"I'm sending Knightmares to intercept, I need you to –"

"Hold it!" Clovis barked, eyes wide with alarm. "You can't send Knightmares into the city, they'll –"

"Face no opposition, I know," Kano cut the prince off effortlessly, "Because you're going to have the Knightpolice and the Military under the assumption that those knightmares are their own, under orders from up on high."

"You are in no position to order me –"

"Let's get our facts straight here, Brittannia," Kano growled down the line, " _You_ contracted the Black Dragon to retrieve this thing. I sent twenty men to retrieve it, and four came back. You're indebted, your Highness, and I'm here to collect. Now either you get the brass on the line, have them turn a blind eye, or every single detail of our little deal will be on the evening news. Got that?"

Clovis remained silent for several moments, as dread settled in his stomach.

"…I'll notify all relevant branches immediately," the Prince finally replied, tone beaten, then tossed the handset on the desk in front of him as the call cut off.

Clovis buried his face in his hands, unmoving, until he forced himself to grab the phone again.

He had calls to make, after all.

* * *

"Alright, listen up!" Kano barked, climbing up onto a crate to address the entirety of the vehicle bay. He waited until all was quiet, and then spoke, voice booming as the gang crowded around beneath him.

"I'll keep this short and sweet," he began. "The truck that those two made off with contains something big, something important – something that our comrades _died_ for, and we're gonna get it back, and then hang the bastards by their tongues."

Kano motioned over to a large section of the vehicle bay, its contents hidden behind metal shutters.

"We're taking Knightmares out, into the city. Before you say anything, I got the clearance myself – no one's going to get in our way. Tremor!"

The massive man emerged from the thick of the assembled crowd, and Kano indicated him.

"Tremor here'll be leading a company of six into the city. Whatever you do, try to keep collateral minimal – we don't need to attract any more attention than we already will. But if anyone gets in your way, take them out, and quickly. The sooner we get this thing back, the better."

Kano stepped off the crate, and as he headed towards the crowd, they parted to let him through.

"Tremor, pick our six best devicers." He grunted, before turning to face the crowd one final time.

"The rest of you, _clean up this damn mess!"_

* * *

"We'll be in the city centre in ten, as long we keep off the main roads." Nagata murmured, as the commandeered truck sped down a mostly empty highway. "…How are you holding up?"

"I've been better." Kallen grunted, staring out the passenger side window, expression dark. Nagata nodded slowly, before glancing at the side of the road and cursing.

"Missed an exit. Damn…" he murmured, as he put the truck into a U-turn. Behind the pair of them, the sound of crashing, and Nagata glanced over his shoulder, at the small door that led back into the trailer.

"Mind checking things in there?" He asked, looking back to the road. "Who the hell knows what these guys were transporting…"

"Sure," Kallen breathed, unbuckling her seatbelt and shuffling out of her seat, opening the door with the press of a nearby button and clambering through. The door slid shut behind her, leaving Kallen in near-darkness.

The trailer wasn't as packed as she'd expected it to be – she sidestepped a large, narrow object draped in a white sheet, looking towards the back. Several boxes, each no more than two feet squared, had toppled over.

She stepped over to them, and lifted one up, feeling its weight. She turned over the box, examining the stamp on the side.

 _Military issue energy fillers. Could work with the Glasgow…_

Kallen's face suddenly fell again, the very thought of the stolen Knightmare bringing her brother back to the forefront of her mind. Trying to stifle the ever-building feeling of stomach-churning grief, Kallen knelt down and began to stack the energy fillers again, even as her breathing grew ragged and her eyes began to burn.

Eventually, she sat back, scrubbing weakly at her eyes and trying desperately not to burst out into tears. She swallowed the lump in her throat, when a sound from behind made her stand up suddenly.

She was still alone inside the trailer – obviously Nagata was still driving. There was another sound, slightly different, and Kallen strained to hear it. It seemed to be a kind of whisper, but was too quiet to be intelligible.

Slowly, the redhead stepped forward, and the whisper grew louder. She took another step, and she realised that it wasn't one whisper, but two, on top of one another. Kallen looked around in bemusement, before her gaze fell on the large object still draped with a sheet. She reached out, and pulled the at the sheet, the voices still whispering in the background.

The sheet fell to the ground, revealing something that could only be described as a sarcophagus. At least, that was what it appeared to be to Kallen; and although she couldn't read the symbols inscribed on the dark, featureless stone, she was certain they weren't any kind of language she knew of.

The shadows obscured most of the finer detail, and Kallen ran her hands across the top of the sarcophagus, feeling more markings. Her fingers ran across something smooth and metallic, and then something else; smooth, polished, but strangely warm. Her hand lingered for a few seconds, and the heat intensified – green light appeared beneath her fingers, and Kallen pulled her hand back in shock.

As emerald light filled the trailer, the whispers from before became shouts, a thousand voices yelling in Kallen's ears. She grimaced, her hands over her ears as she stepped away from the sarcophagus.

Suddenly, the light disappeared, along with the voices, leaving her once again in darkness, and Kallen blinked, staring blankly at the stone coffin in front of her.

… _What the hell was that?_

Before she could try anything else, Nagata's voice came from the front of the truck.

"Kallen! Get back here, we've got a problem!"

* * *

 **Again, sorry that I took so long with this update. Life happens, unfortunately. Read and review!**


	4. Episode 1 - The Calm - Part 4

_Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

"What is it?" Kallen asked, clambering back into the cab, the door sliding shut behind her.

"One of the news channels is reporting a convoy of Knightmares moving through Tokyo. They're military-grade Sutherland models," Nagata replied, indicating the radio in the dashboard as Kallen buckled her seatbelt again.

"So what?" Kallen shrugged, looking over at the dark-haired man. "As far as the military's concerned, they shouldn't know anything about us…"

"Yeah, but this thing's been giving me play-by-play updates. They're following the _exact same_ routes we took, back roads and all," Nagata murmured.

"What are you saying? That the Black Dragon's cozy with the Britannians?" Kallen asked, incredulous.

"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised," Nagata grunted. "I'm taking us out onto a main road, see if I can get us downtown quicker. The sooner we get out of this thing, the better." As he turned a corner, driving towards the nearest highway entrance, Kallen sat back in her seat, thoughts still focused on the strange sarcophagus in the rear of the truck, and the cacophony of voices that had surrounded it.

* * *

"Tell me one thing," Rivalz called over the rush of the wind as he and Lelouch drove down the main highway.

"Hm?" Lelouch looked up at his friend, gaze hidden behind his helmet's visor.

"Why'd you play with that guy at the beginning? I've seen you fight, you could have had him in ten, maybe six seconds."

"I wanted to see if he was bringing his all to the fight. When I realised he had nothing more to offer, I put him down," Lelouch answered, succinctly.

"But isn't that a little overconfident of you?" Rivalz frowned, glancing back down at the other teen for a moment. "What if he was hustling?"

"That noble wasn't smart enough to hustle me," Lelouch grunted. "Besides, I know the type. Nobles think that overwhelming force, be it financial or physical, can fix nearly any problem that life throws their way. They don't need to worry about a second approach to anything, most of the time."

"You're right, I guess," Rivalz murmured, "But you could be proven wrong, one of these days."

"I doubt it," Lelouch grumbled. "It would have happened by now –"

Lelouch was silenced by Rivalz' surprised yell as a large truck appeared from nowhere behind them, its driver abusing the horn and swerving violently.

* * *

Nagata let out a frustrated yell, jerking the wheel harshly.

"Get out of the damn road!" He hissed, swerving to the left of the two teenagers. Kallen's eyes widened as the truck careened towards an exit blocked by a striped barrier.

"No, not that way!" She shouted.

* * *

Rivalz and Lelouch watched dumbly as the truck crashed through the barrier, its tires squealing as the driver desperately tried to bring it to a halt. The vehicle skidded down into a nearby building site, its wheels throwing up clouds of dust before its front end impacted a row of scaffolding, bringing the truck to a violent stop.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't our fault," Rivalz laughed nervously.

Lelouch stepped out of the sidecar, pulling his helmet and visor off as he scrutinised the sight of the accident. For a moment, a bright green mist seemed to collect around the roof of the trailer, and Lelouch narrowed his eyes.

Chatter from below drew his attention away, and the teen watched as a crowd congregated on the roads below, murmuring to each other and taking pictures with their phones. Lelouch's face twisted with disgust.

 _Pathetic. They won't even bother to call for help…_

To Lelouch's chagrin, the mysterious mist had vanished whilst he was snarling at the spectators. Rivalz stepped up beside him, glancing at the truck for a moment before looking at his friend again.

"C'mon, Lelouch, we need to go –"

Wordlessly, Lelouch took off in a sprint towards the building site, heedless of Rivalz' protests. As jeers from above echoed, Lelouch clambered atop the truck's trailer, careful not to fall down through a hatch that had opened in the crash.

 _ **There you are.**_

Lelouch looked around, eyes wide as he searched for the source of the voice. "Hello?" He called, but there was no answer. "Are you okay in there? _Hello_?"

* * *

"Nagata! _Nagata_!" Kallen murmured, trying to shake her companion out of unconsciousness. The airbags had failed to deploy, and he'd hit his head hard; blood leaked from a shallow cut on his forehead, and as he came to, he swayed slightly in his seat.

"C'mon, we need to keep moving!" Kallen grunted, and Nagata nodded, still somewhat unsteady.

"Are you hurt?" Lelouch shouted. "Hel –"

Suddenly, the truck revved into life again, and jerked forward harshly, catapulting the teenager through the open hatch and into the trailer as Rivalz gave a squawk of surprise from above. Lelouch landed gracefully, cursing and looking up at the hatch as it slid back shut.

"Stop!" He shouted, praying the driver would hear him. "I'm in here, stop!"

* * *

Nagata shook his head, trying to dispel the inklings of a concussion, as he pulled out of the building site, and through onto another road. He was still rattled from the crash, enough so that he missed the signs indicating the road was cordoned off.

"Nagata…" Kallen gasped, craning her head to try and get a look at one such sign.

" _What?"_ He hissed, exasperated.

"We – screw it. Just get us downtown," Kallen grunted, staring straight ahead at the road with a tired expression.

* * *

Lelouch sat in the darkness, fishing in his pocket for his phone. Pulling it out, he quickly dialled in in Rivalz' number, and waited for his friend to pick up.

 _The least I can do is call him, tell him to head back to school._

Lelouch listened to the phone ringing for several moments, before it was picked up.

"Lelouch!" Rivalz' voice came, frantic from the other end of the line, "Lelouch, where are –"

"I don't know. But I'm fine, for the moment. Listen, Rivalz, head back to school, keep things quiet."

"What?" His friend spluttered. "How am I meant to explain where you are?"

"We'll handle that later," Lelouch replied, succinctly. "Just get back to –"

The trailer jerked violently, and Lelouch gasped, the phone flying from his grip.

* * *

 _"Fuck!"_ Nagata yelled. "Who the hell is it this time –"

The man paled as he watched a limousine emblazoned with the Britannian flag linger behind the truck, aggressively honking its horn. Nagata swallowed, taken aback and unsure of what to do as Kallen looked ahead.

The redhead gasped suddenly, as she spied something on the road. She tugged at Nagata's sleeve, trying to get his attention, and it was only when the man turned back to the road with a muffled curse that he saw what Kallen had.

"Not _him_ again!"

* * *

Tremor stalked down the highway, towards the two approaching vehicles. Dark grey scales of rock began to form around his fingers, spreading upwards to cover his knuckles, then hands, and then the entirety of his forearms.

He stood still in the middle of the road, striking a wide, steady stance. His eyes pulsed a vivid orange for a moment, before he grunted and stepped forward. He crouched, pressing his hands to the concrete as the stolen truck drew ever closer.

The rock covering his arms began to vibrate, and that vibration spread out onto the concrete, barely noticeable. Tremor's eyes flared orange once more, and that insignificant vibration became a massive, destructive quake.

Concrete split and shattered, rebar twisting and shrieking as the highway in front of him crumbled, the truck and the limo both squealing to a halt in an effort to reverse. However, it was in vain; both vehicles plummeted down into a rising cloud of dust as the road beneath them disappeared.

Tremor stepped towards the edge of the destruction, staring down into the chasm he had created. He plucked a radio from his belt, bringing it up beside his mask, and spoke in a rough, gravelly voice.

"All Knightmares converge on my position. We have them."

* * *

When Lelouch came to, he could see even less than he could previously. The crash had knocked out the miniscule lighting inside the trailer, leaving him in pitch-black darkness. He fumbled around for his phone, blind, and sighed as his fingers closed around fragments of plastic and silicone.

 _Typical._

 _But how am I even still alive? That fall – whatever the hell it was, I should be paste._

Lelouch attempted to pull himself to his feet, but only succeeded in falling back against something large and made from cool stone, his world still spinning slightly.

 _I need to get up. Now. Need to get out of here._

Steeling himself, Lelouch rose, slowly. His legs trembled slightly, but the teen ignored it, taking a few tentative steps forward. Within a minute or so, he was able to walk around without issue.

Nodding to himself, the teen turned his mind to the first order of business – getting out of the truck. He felt along the side of the trailer for anything resembling a handle, and when his fingers closed around something that felt similar enough, he pulled hard, grunting. The metal seemed unyielding for several moments, but Lelouch held fast, and soon, he felt the door give.

Sliding it open, Lelouch coughed as dust blew in, stepping forward and out of the trailer. He struggled to make out the details of the vehicle that he'd been an unwilling passenger of; the lighting was even worse than it was inside the trailer.

However, as the dust cleared, natural light poured in through the opening in the ceiling – he seemed to be in some sort of underground tunnel - and Lelouch refocused his gaze on the cab of the truck.

 _I think it's past time I talked to the driver._

The teen stalked towards the cab, fists clenching, when the passenger side door opened.

"Keep pressure on that, Nagata. I'll see if I can find out where we are."

Lelouch stopped dead at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes widening as Kallen hopped out of the cab, still staring back into it.

"I think we're clear," Kallen murmured, glancing around. "We should go, now – _Lelouch?"_ The redhead gasped as she looked over her shoulder, shocked.

"Kallen?" A voice came from inside the trailer. "Kallen, are you okay – who the hell are _you?"_

A man at least ten year's Kallen's senior pulled himself into the passenger seat, glaring down at Lelouch despite the deep cut on his forehead.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Lelouch replied sharply, the brusque reply coming easily to him. The man in the cab grimaced, before pulling himself out. He was obviously still shaken up by the crash, and Kallen moved over to him, letting the man put an arm around her shoulder for support.

"He's just a guy from school," Kallen murmured, and Lelouch rolled his eyes.

"So what's he doing _here_?" The man asked, tone still prickly.

"When you crashed back at the building site," Lelouch cut in suddenly, "I thought you might need help. I was on top of that trailer when you accelerated." He gazed pointedly at the man, attempting to make him feel something akin to remorse. If the way he suddenly avoided Lelouch's gaze was any indication, the teen had succeeded.

"I don't suppose I can ask what _you're_ doing here?" Lelouch asked, watching as Kallen and the man exchanged glances. After a moment of silence, Lelouch sighed.

"Guess not."

"Look, does it really matter?" Kallen asked, voice tired. "We can all talk about this later, but we need to go _now._ "

Lelouch felt compelled to ask more questions, to ask why it was so urgent that they leave, but he supposed it had something to do with the massive hole in the ceiling. He nodded, and moved closer to the duo.

"So where are we going?" Lelouch asked, watching as the man thought for a moment.

"We should be near Shinjuku, last time I checked. So as long as we keep heading –"

Suddenly, the ground exploded in front of the man, a rocky spike stabbing upwards and catching him in the centre of the chest. It pinned him against the truck's cab, and the man trashed violently, even as blood began to stain his shirt and trickle down the spike.

" _Nagata!"_ Kallen screamed, dashing over to the man, Lelouch behind her.

Nagata craned his head slowly to look at the redhead, his mouth opening to say something, his eyes wide with fear – but that fear left his eyes, along with life as he slumped forward on the spike.

"As Kano said," a deep voice echoed from behind them, " _no one_ steals from the Black Dragon."

Kallen immediately rounded on the massive man, her eyes burning with a terrible anger.

"You _bastard,"_ Kallen hissed. _"_ I'm gonna tear your throat out –"

Lelouch stepped forward, holding an arm out to stop the redhead. "Kallen, _wait –_ "

"No, let her," Tremor rumbled. "If she thinks she can, she is more than welcome to try. _You,"_ he glanced at Lelouch, "I do not remember you. Perhaps an innocent bystander? You are certainly free to go."

Lelouch glanced between his furious friend and the massive man, completely at a loss for words.

Kallen dashed forward abruptly, letting out a kiai as she raised her hands. Tremor quickly slipped into a stance as the girl approached, and easily blocked the fast roundhouse aimed at his head.

Kallen's mind was clouded with grief and anger, and she let it all out as she attempted to land a hit on Tremor, screaming and roaring as she threw herself into attack after attack. However, she found herself blocked again and again, and nursing new bruises.

She growled at her opponent, preparing to attack again, when Tremor went on the offensive. Kallen raised a hand to block Tremor's powerful body blow, but the punch simply knocked aside her arm like it was nothing, and connected solidly with her gut. She doubled over, wheezing and clutching her abdomen.

Lelouch watched his friend sink to the floor, seemingly powerless. He blinked, unable to find the strength to move despite the fact that Kallen was almost certainly going to get beaten to death in front of him.

That single thought seemed to stir something in him, and sent him dashing towards Tremor, leaping up into a flying side kick.

The attack connected solidly with the side of the Black Dragon's head, and he staggered, before turning to look at Lelouch.

"I want you to know," Tremor growled, "that I gave you a chance."

Immediately, Tremor was upon him, raining down a seemingly endless barrage of attacks. Lelouch struggled to block them all – the man's strength was terrifying, and the rock covering his fists made his blows all the more painful, even when blocked.

On the ground, Kallen looked up, eyes widening as she watched Lelouch trade blows with the larger man.

 _I need to help him._

She attempted to rise to her feet, only for the pain in her abdomen to send her to the ground again, her cheek scraping against the gravel. Kallen cursed quietly, and pushed herself up with her hands, eyes on Tremor.

"Faster than the girl," Tremor murmured, as Lelouch ducked underneath a high kick, "more skilful. A pity I must snuff out such promise."

"You haven't seen anything yet!" Kallen shouted, from behind, as she caught the Black Dragon with a kick to the side of his knee.

Lelouch immediately capitalised on the advantage, seizing Tremor by the scruff of his jacket and slamming his knee into his face. However, he wasn't sure if he had actually _hurt_ the man – the metal mask protecting his face had taken the brunt of the blow, and left Lelouch's knee aching.

Despite their aches and pains, the two teenagers did their best to coordinate their attacks, trying to expose what little weakness their opponent had. When Tremor attempted to pin Lelouch down, he caught a kick in the head from Kallen; when he attempted to grapple with Kallen, Lelouch slipped around him and kicked out the back of his knee.

Tremor roared, and threw his arms out to his sides. His eyes glowed a vibrant orange, and the earth shook, throwing both Lelouch and Kallen off their feet. A punch in Kallen's direction sent the redhead sprawling back, knocked unconscious against the wall by an earthen projectile.

The Black Dragon began to advance on his remaining opponent, his right hand covering itself with rock that began to fashion into a crude hammer.

"Now," Tremor hissed, "now you _die,_ boy –"

From inside the trailer, a green light exploded as the lid of the sarcophagus was blown clean off by an invisible force.

Tremor glanced upward at the source of the light, only to be blown off his feet by a gust of emerald energy. Lelouch turned, watching in surprise as a humanoid form, shadowed by the intensity of the light, emerged from the stone prison and stood to its full height, the green glow fading.

As Lelouch pulled himself to his feet, he watched his rescuer step out of the trailer. He couldn't make out any features, as the face of the woman – and it was a woman, if the wider hips and narrow waist were anything to go on - was covered by black bandages, save for eyes that glowed with the same light as the sarcophagus. A green gem, resting in a gold talisman, was fitted to the bandage just above the woman's eyes, and it pulsed brightly.

Straight green hair spilled down to the centre of the woman's back, and fell down in a triangular fringe between her eyes. She wore some kind of fitted black leather trenchcoat, detailed with red and belted with dark leather rimmed with polished gold, another emerald gem embedded in the centre of the buckle.

Gleaming silver gauntlets and armoured boots adorned her hands and feet, both wrapped with black scraps of cloth. Lelouch moved back on instinct as the mysterious woman drew closer – no, _floated_ closer, a glowing green mist wafting from her legs as she drifted towards Lelouch.

The woman stared at him, silent, and Lelouch opened his mouth to speak, when a frustrated yell resounded only a few feet away from them.

Tremor stood up once more, and hurled a large, rocky projectile at the two of them, but the woman outstretched her hand, and the rock stopped dead, floating in the air, surrounded by green mist. She flicked her hand away, and the rock flew to the side.

Tremor looked at his projectile in disbelief, before refocusing on the woman. He narrowed his eyes, and then slammed his fists together as his eyes glowed brighter than ever before. He summoned several projectiles, tearing the rock out of the ground, and hurled them all towards the woman with a roar.

Lelouch immediately ducked for cover, even as the woman stopped every single projectile in their tracks. However, before his rescuer could react, she was tackled against the side of the trailer by Tremor.

As the two fighters began to grapple with one another, the earth shaking and green light flashing, Lelouch looked around for Kallen, and found her slumped against a nearby wall. He dashed over to her, keeping his head down, and knelt to take her into his arms.

 _This is insane – we're only going to end up dead if we stay here._

Tremor let out a yell of pain as he was slammed into the ground by the woman's power, but quickly recovered, rounding on his opponent.

"I will not give you the satisfaction of victory," he snarled, and dropped to his knees.

He began to punch the ground fiercely, and shook the earth violently with every blow. Lelouch cursed as he was sent to ground again, but his eyes widened as large fragments of rock and concrete began to dislodge from the ceiling.

The first crushed the cab of the truck like a grape, and the second barely missed Tremor himself. Lelouch looked up to see the third fall above him, its size and weight easily dwarfing him and Kallen, and he moved to curl around the unconscious redhead, in futile protection.

However, the woman who had rescued him wasn't done with him yet. The chunk of rock was shunted to the side, barely missing Lelouch and Kallen, the teen failing to restrain a yell of surprise as it crashed beside him.

In the midst of the chaos, Tremor continued to slam the ground, until finally, the ceiling groaned, and suddenly gave way, exploding downward to crush anything and everyone below.

* * *

Lelouch coughed, trying to clear the dust from his lungs, and pulled himself to his feet, blinking.

The back of his head ached, and he reached around with probing fingers. Lelouch winced when they came away with fresh blood, and then looked around for Kallen, praying she'd survived the cave-in.

The redhead had been mercifully untouched by the destruction – whatever the disused tunnel had been before, it was merely a pile of rubble now. Lelouch nearly fell over as he attempted to pick her up, his every muscle aching.

Something seized him from behind, a massive hand around his neck, and Lelouch clawed frantically at the grip as it cut off his air supply. Suddenly, it released him, only to for Lelouch to be hurled several feet away.

"It is past time you learned an important fact of life, boy…" Tremor's voice echoed from behind Lelouch, as the teen attempted to crawl away, to find some semblance of shelter.

"It is not your strength, your skill that decides the battle. It is your will," Tremor grunted, grabbing the boy and flipping him over onto his back, massive hands closing around the teen's neck. Lelouch wheezed, his fingernails scratching along Tremor's rock-covered forearms.

"The will to give all of yourself to the battle! The will to do what is necessary! The will to take a life!"

Lelouch's vision began to fade at the edges, his hands drifting up Tremor's arms. They closed around Tremor's neck, in a feeble last show of defiance.

"And you did not – did not – _urk –_ "

The pressure on Lelouch's windpipe lessened, and he sucked in a breath of fresh air, gazing up at his would-be assailant. The man's throat was stark white, and light caught tiny crystals on its surface.

Lelouch's hands felt cold, and at the same time _not_ , as if that chill was comfortable. He looked at his hands, eyes widening when he saw them covered with a gleaming, misty sheen.

 _Ice?_

He looked back at Tremor, at the man's throat, before meeting his eyes. Something dark must have gleamed in Lelouch's eyes, because Tremor's widened with fear. He began to pull at Lelouch's arms, but the teen tightened his grip, the man letting out a strangled scream.

"You do not know what it _is_ to take a life," Lelouch hissed. "The only ones who should kill, are those who are prepared to _be_ killed!"

The flesh of Tremor's neck began to split, and the man quieted with a gurgle. Lelouch did not relent; he kept the grip tight, until he heard a _crack._

With morbid curiosity, he released Tremor's throat, watching as the man fell backwards. As soon as he fell to the ground, Tremor's neck shattered into gleaming, blood-stained crystals of cold, his head rolling a few feet away.

Slowly, Lelouch rose to his feet, gazing at the corpse of his dead enemy. His eyes widened as the full scope of his actions washed over him, and he gazed down at his hands, which still gleamed with the icy sheen.

* * *

 _That was the turning point._

 _For so long, I've lived a lie: The lie of living. My name, is a lie. My personal history, a lie. Nothing but lies._

 _I was sick to death of a world that couldn't be changed. But even in my lies, I refused to give in to despair._

 _But now, this incredible power…it's mine._

* * *

Lelouch looked ahead, as malice curved his mouth and lit his eyes with dark elation.

"Well then…"

* * *

 **That's the first episode for you- here's hoping you enjoy everything that I have in store. Read and review.**


	5. Interlude 01 - Totalled

_Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

Euphemia li Britannia awoke, and tasted blood.

She'd fallen unconscious when the road collapsed underneath the car, the throbbing above her left eye testament to the probable cause. Slowly, she opened her light blue eyes, her vision still hazy as she looked around the interior of the limousine.

Both the driver and her bodyguards were either unconscious or dead – she couldn't tell, not yet. She shifted in her seat, and let out a cry of pain at the sudden stabbing pain in her calve. Looking down, she found a shard of glass digging into the muscle, and acting on instinct rather than reason, pulled it out, hissing.

Within moments, the wound began to bleed profusely. Fumbling with her elaborate white dress, Euphemia tore a long strip off the hem, and tied it around the wound as best she could. She glanced down at the discarded, bloodied shard of glass, taking in her reflection.

Her long fuchsia locks were mussed, the buns on either side of her head matted with sticky red. The alabaster skin of her face was marred by tiny cuts and nicks, as well as a large cut above her left eye, surrounded by angry bruising. She brought a hand up, probing the wound gently, but was quickly discouraged by a vivid flash of pain. Euphemia let out a breath, and sat back, staring up at the car's contorted ceiling.

Something caught in her oesophagus, and her eyes shot wide open. Euphemia doubled forward, retching, and seconds later, coughed out several globs of blood, the vivid red darkening the white fabric of her dress.

Shaking her head, Euphemia turned towards the car door, beginning to fumble with the handle.

 _I…_

 _I need to get out of here. Need to find…Suzaku…_

Her ears caught the sound of tires on gravel, and she looked through the passenger side window, watching as massive, boxy humanoid forms wheeled to a stop beside the wreck, painted in purple and black.

 _Knightmares…the military!_

Euphemia struggled with the door for several moments, before grunting and throwing her full weight behind it. The door burst open, the lock giving way, and she gasped as she fell out onto the ground, her palms crunching the gravel and dust beneath.

Exhausted, Euphemia collapsed, listening to the sounds of the pilots emerging from their Knightmares, allowing herself to take solace in the fact that she'd at least been found by friendly forces.

"Shit, man, what did Tremor _do_?"

"Who the hell is that – oh, _hell_."

Euphemia's eyes drifted open again, as brash, undisciplined voices echoed from all around her.

 _They aren't military._

"Is that the Princess?"

"Which one?"

"Euphemia, I think."

Euphemia kept perfectly still, eyes closed, even as a hand seized her by the arm and roughly turned her onto her back.

"She looks like shit. But I think she's still alive…"

"Well, what do we do with her?"

"No idea."

"…We take her with us, for now. We'll contact the boss, figure something out then."

"Well, who's taking her?"

Trying to remain unnoticeable, Euphemia inched her hand towards the hem of her dress.

"I will. Kira, call Kano _now._ "

A large male hand clamped around her arm, dragging her up, and in that instant, Euphemia attacked, pulling herself up with the man's arm and slamming her fist into his face. The man recoiled, falling onto his back.

"What the – she's still conscious?"

" _Get her!"_

Euphemia reached down, tugging up the hem of her dress, and unsheathed two long, straight steel weapons from a scabbard attached to her thigh. Taking one in each hand, she spread her fingers, and the weapons spread out with them, revealing a pair of razor-tipped fans, the white fabric between each sharpened spoke intricately detailed.

She brought the fans up in front of her, sliding into a stance as the fans caught the light of the sun, the metal tips gleaming. She scanned the assembled group before her; six strong, men and women both.

No one moved for several moments, until a woman dressed in red and black pulled a knife from her boot. Following the woman's example, the other gang members revealed weapons, beginning to circle the wounded princess like a pack of vultures. Suddenly, the woman snarled, and dashed forward, her knife levelled at the Princess.

Euphemia rushed forward to meet her, fans ready.


	6. Episode 2 - Sasori - Part 1

_Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

Lelouch watched the icy sheen retreat back over his forearms, enthralled as it disappeared into nothingness. He turned his hand over, examining it carefully. His knuckles were red and slightly skinned from the previous fight – but it showed no trace of the strange transformation.

 _Interesting._

He flexed his fingers, and glanced down at Tremor's headless corpse. The space between the body and the head glittered with frozen red crystals, gleaming in the sunlight that shone down from the immense hole in the ceiling. He looked back to his hands, held out in front of him, and frowned.

 _Now, how exactly does this work? Is it summoned by external stimuli? Emotion? Or can I simply will it?_

Lelouch closed his eyes, and concentrated. He attempted to summon the ice again, and imagined the frost crawling over his hands. He opened his eyes again, to find no change. Again, he closed his eyes, and concentrated – searching his being for some trace of the transformation, something he could duplicate. After several moments, his face tightened in frustration, and the image of his hands around Tremor's neck flashed through his mind.

 _I had it only a minute ago. What's changed?_

Suddenly, he felt the comfortable chill again – just below his elbows. He fought the urge to open his eyes, instead trying to complete the transformation. He kept the image at the forefront of his mind, tried to remember how the ice felt. He could feel the transformation slowly inching forward, but it became steadily apparent that it was slowing down, completely stopping several inches away from his hands.

 _There must be something missing. When I was being attacked, I felt…what did I feel?_

 _Pain. Fear. Rage._

Lelouch clenched his fists, and summoned to mind a specific memory that evoked such feelings. He grimaced – and the ice suddenly leapt forward over his hands, encasing them in a split second. He opened his eyes, and examined the transformation closely. He could still vaguely make out his flesh-and-blood arms beneath the ice, and he made fists, watching as the ice cracked and reformed over his skin in an instant to accommodate it.

 _Now I know how to control it, to a degree at least. I'll need to find out what else I can do with it besides decapitating assailants. But first…_

Lelouch looked to his right, where Kallen lay unconscious on the ground. Her hair was matted with dust, and she was still unconscious. Lelouch knelt beside her, and gently shook her shoulder.

"Kallen," He spoke, firmly.

The girl remained as she was, unresponsive. Lelouch sighed, and snapped his fingers several times near her face. When that failed, he slapped her as gently as he could manage – after removing the ice from his arms, of course.

Eventually, it became obvious that she wouldn't be moving any time soon, and Lelouch groaned, before standing up and looking towards the gaping gap in the ceiling of the tunnel, and the daylight beyond.

 _There's no way I can make that climb – not with her on my back anyway. And I'm not about to wait for emergency services – I'm not going to take the risk that more of the Black Dragon show up._

Lelouch knelt down, and took Kallen into his arms in a bridal carry. He glanced around at the rubble, and he thought of the strange woman that had come to his rescue.

 _In all likelihood, she was crushed to death. And even if she wasn't, I don't want to take any more chances. For all I know, she could want me or Kallen dead as well._

Lelouch looked around for the nearest adjoining tunnel, and after spying one that was at least partially lit, he began to walk. As he disappeared into the tunnel, Kallen in his arms, he was unaware that Tremor's radio had begun to squawk noisily.

* * *

"Tremor, report," Kano grunted into the radio, for the fifth time in a row. He stood in the middle of the vehicle bay, which had been mostly cleared up following the chaos only half an hour prior. A few of his men watched him with a mix of curiosity and anxiety, tensing as they saw frustration creep onto his face.

" _Report,"_ he growled, only to be met with static. He cursed, and adjusted the radio's frequency to address the six Black Dragon members who had accompanied Tremor into the city.

"Kira, talk to me," Kano sighed.

"Sir?" came the strained reply.

"Something wrong?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Not exactly," the woman replied. "As far as we know, Tremor's managed to disable the truck."

Kano nodded, some of the tension in his features disappearing.

"Right. Where is it?" Kano asked.

"It's…in the subway tunnels," Kira replied, anxiously.

The tension immediately returned, tenfold.

" _What?"_ Kano hissed. "What the hell happened?"

"It seems Tremor used his powers to collapse one of the highways and the ground beneath it," Kira explained. Kano brought one hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose, groaning in frustration.

 _Fantastic, Tremor. Real sneaky._

"And?" Kano asked, dreading Kira's next words.

"The truck fell into the chasm – we can make it out, but we're not sure if the cargo's intact," Kira replied. "Kobra and Kabal are checking it out now. Update in a moment."

The radio clicked off, and Kano lowered it, beginning to pace back and forth like an animal. All those watching kept eyes on the radio, waiting for the news.

Finally, the radio clicked back on, gurgling with static for a moment as Kano brought it up to his face.

"Boss," Kira's voice came, breathless.

"Give me something, Kira," Kano murmured, closing his one human eye.

"Kabal's saying…he's saying the cargo's gone. The chest's open," Kira replied, haltingly.

The men closest to Kano shrunk back, watching as his eye widened and his features tightened. He grit his teeth, cursing quietly, and spoke into the radio again.

"What about Tremor?" Kano asked. "Where is the dumb bastard?"

"We don't know, we – hang on," Kira said, and the radio clicked off again, drawing a frustrated growl from Kano. Moments later, the radio squawked to life again.

"Boss," Kira murmured, hesitant. "Tremor's dead."

Kano froze on the spot, features frozen in disbelief.

"What?" He breathed, barely audible.

"They're saying his head's just been… _cracked_ off…" Kira replied, struggling with the description. "We have one of the drivers dead down there, don't know where the other one – the girl – don't know where she is."

Slowly, rage began to make its way across Kano's face. When he spoke, his voice was laced with quiet fury. "Find her. Find her and bring her _back._ "

"A-actually, Boss, there's one other thing…" Kira added.

" _What?"_ Kano barked, exasperated. _"What else could have possibly fucking happened?"_

The radio was silent for several moments, before Kira spoke again. "Tremor also ran a royal convoy off the road. We have Euphemia li Britannia here – she tried to attack us."

Kano furrowed what was left of his brow, and he appeared to think deeply for a moment.

"Bring her back here," Kano finally said. "She'll be useful."

Before Kira could manage a reply, Kano turned the radio off, tossing it to one of his men with an exasperated grunt.

" _Listen!"_ He suddenly shouted, his voice filling the vehicle bay. "Listen, all of you. I want _all_ Knightmares ready, I want _all_ devicers ready! We're getting that cargo back today!"

* * *

Clovis, arms folded on his desk, watched as his laptop played through a live news broadcast. His face was implacable as the reporter described what appeared to be some kind of explosion or collapse on one of the motorways, but as the picture changed to a live broadcast from an overhead helicopter, he couldn't restrain his grimace.

It was if the ground had been torn open by some miniature earthquake, but the destruction was hardly the worst part – it was the Sutherlands that could be seen wheeling out of frame, away from the chasm.

Clovis knew full well that those Knightmares weren't military, and he let out a long, heavy sigh, burying his face in his hands.

 _I've made an incomparable mess of this. Cornelia would have me by the throat if she knew…_

Sitting back in his chair, he watched the rest of the report play out. However, something in the corner of the picture caught his eye, and he leaned in, trying to make out the image. Suddenly, the helicopter's camera appeared to refocus, offering a clearer image, and Clovis' blood ran cold.

Euphemia's limo lay alone at the edge of the chasm, battered and scratched. Its windows were bloodied, and one door – on the passenger's side – hung open.

Clovis sat up so quickly the chair upturned behind him, but he barely noticed as he moved out from behind the desk and began to pace the length of the office, murmuring to himself fearfully. Minutes passed as he struggled to compose himself, and when he found the ability to string sentences together again, he dug his phone from his coat pocket, and stabbed a number into the handset that was becoming far too familiar.

The phone rang for several moments, before it was picked up.

"Hello?" Kano asked, seemingly carefree.

"Kano, you _bloodsucker._ Do you have any _idea_ what you've done? I'll bring down the entire military on you –"

Kano cut off Clovis harshly, his voice hard.

"Stop right there. Don't you _dare_ think you can talk to me that way. You think the ball's in your court, but the truth is _your_ balls are in my fist," Kano hissed. "I'm sending in more Knightmares."

Clovis was about to splutter a reply, but again, Kano cut him off.

"And if you even so much as _think_ about trying to mess with this, I'll release everything. All the records, all the evidence. I thought I made myself clear the first time."

"You did," came Clovis' strangled reply.

Kano hung up without another word, and Clovis stared down at the phone for several moments, before letting out a roar and hurling it across the room, where it shattered into fragments against the wall. He stalked back over to his desk, and gazed out of the tall windows behind it, at the expansive Tokyo skyline.

His gaze eventually drifted to the expensive, richly coloured curtains beside the windows, and then to his entire office. He sat back against his desk, taking in its splendour and opulence. Finally, he looked down beside him, at the photo of Euphemia he had framed the day he'd been given his position and this office.

He reached out, and gently stroked one finger over the picture, his features twisting into a bitter, forlorn smile.

 _Dear sister. Where did it all go so wrong?_

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. When he opened them again, his face was hardened with resolve.

 _You know, I never liked this office anyway. The sunlight keeps coming in at the most awful angles._

Clovis looked around for his cellphone – and then rolled his eyes as he remembered the shattered fragments at the side of the room. He headed towards the double-doors at the other side of the office, and, pushing them open, poked his head out, to address his secretary.

"Get me Special Forces. _Quickly."_

* * *

"Shirley! Hurry up! It's been half an hour already!"

"Just a little longer. Nearly finished!" The reply came.

"Ugh. What are you even doing in there?"

Shirley didn't bother to answer her roommate's exasperated reply, and instead concentrated on the task at hand. Alternating between brushing her hair out and towelling it dry, she sat on the side of the bath, dressed in an old, loose t-shirt and shorts. The sun shone through a tiny window above the sink, and her bright copper hair gleamed, a sharp contrast with her pale skin and vivid green eyes.

Her phone, resting on top of the nearby toilet, suddenly chimed into life, vibrating loudly against the porcelain surface. She stood and walked over to it, plucking it up and brushing her hair behind her ear as she glanced at the caller ID.

 _Lelouch._

Shirley answered the call, and brought the phone to her ear, sitting back down on the side of the bath.

"Hello?" She asked, glancing at herself in the mirror again.

 _Looks good. Didn't make any mistakes this time._

"Shirley? Lelouch's voice came.

"Lelouch. Is everything okay?" Shirley asked, concern on her face. "Rivalz told me you were in some kind of accident – something about a truck…"

"It's nothing," Lelouch replied. "Listen, Shirley, I need you to do me a favour."

Shirley immediately perked up, attentive. "Yeah, of course. Anything."

"Can you tell Nunnally I'll be home late tonight? We were supposed to train together tonight and I don't want her thinking I've up and left her."

Shirley nodded. "I'll take care of it – but what do I tell Milly? The Student Council's meeting today, you know."

"Tell her I'm busy," Lelouch replied. "Oh, and tell her that Kallen won't be able to make it to the meeting either."

Shirley's eyes narrowed, and she frowned.

 _Wait, what?_

"…Why? Are you two up to something?" Shirley asked anxiously, kicking her long, toned legs back and forth.

"What? No, nothing. Just tell Milly we'll be back late," Lelouch replied.

"It's just, I can't tell Milly without…" Shirley struggled to find the words, "without knowing in good conscience what you're up to."

"Thanks, Shirley. Bye," Lelouch muttered.

"Wait! Lelouch! _Lelouch!"_ Shirley spluttered. Her only answer was the phone's electronic _chirp_ as Lelouch ended the call.

Bringing the phone back down, Shirley stared at the screen. Lelouch's caller ID picture stared back, his grin wide and eyes bright. At any other time, the picture might have seemed innocent, but at the moment, the boy in the picture seemed insufferably _smug_. Shirley ground her teeth, and made a furious, icoherent noise in her throat.

"Shirley? Are you alright?" Her roommate called.

"Fine, Sophie…" Shirley grumbled.

"Are you smoking? I smell smoke. That is an _awful_ habit, you know…"

"I'm _not smoking,_ Sophie…" Shirley called, growing increasingly agitated as she checked her reflection again – and let out a frustrated curse.

" _Shirley!"_

"Oh, shut up, Sophie!" Shirley called. She could hear her roommate huffing in indignation behind the door, and then her heavy, furious footsteps away from the bathroom. Sighing, Shirley brought the mirror up, examining her reflection closely.

Several long, shining silver streaks were prominent in her once completely copper hair, and Shirley muttered to herself as she crouched down, opening the cabinet below the sink and reaching into the back.

"Won't even be able to take him on a date if this keeps up…"

Shirley pulled out another bottle of orange hair dye, and got back to work.

* * *

 _Careful now. Careful…_

Screwdriver in hand, Villetta Nu sat hunched over at a tiny table, a lamp focused on the work in front of her. Her jacket was slung over the back of her seat, and the sleeves of her shirt were rolled up, exposing the dark skin of her forearms. Her long silver-blue hair was slung back in a high ponytail, away from her golden eyes.

Scientists and technicians moved about behind her, either tapping at tablets or working on the lab's central project, a Knightmare Frame. Most of it was covered by tarps or scaffolding, but Villetta had deduced that it was of a unique design, given the atypical design of the parts she'd been able to make out.

 _Wouldn't be surprised if it's for a Knight of the Round. They always like their fancy Frames._

Carefully, she set about reassembling what she'd taken apart, and began slotting and screwing together the mess of parts in front of her.

"Oh my, Lieutenant Nu! Fancy seeing you here." A high, carefree voice squawked behind her. Immediately, Villetta tensed, fighting to keep her expression stoic.

Behind her, Lloyd Asplund creeped up, his grin wide and his eyes bright behind wide glasses. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his lab coat, and as he stood beside Villetta's work table, he bent over it, inspecting her progress.

"Nice to see you're actually doing maintenance on that thing for once," the scientist drawled, glancing up at the Lieutenant for a moment. Villetta nodded stiffly, and resumed working, even as Lloyd stepped back, peering over her shoulders, occasionally making tiny noises of approval - or as was mostly the case, the opposite.

Finally, Villetta screwed the final part into place, and sat back, examining the now assembled bracer in front of her. Its design was sleek and gunmetal gray, stretching the length of Villetta's wrist to a few inches short of her elbow. Lloyd frowned, searching for activity that was obviously missing.

"You _did_ remember to put the sakurad –" Lloyd was quickly cut off by Villetta.

"The sakuradite battery in the right way? Yes," Villetta replied, curt. "I believe I know what the problem is." She plucked the bracer from the worktable, and strapped it to her forearm, before promptly whacking it hard against the table.

Lloyd squawked, indignant. "You _thug!_ I made that on special request –"

"Oh, look," Villetta smirked. "It's _working._ "

Several soft pink lights dotted across the bracer glowed brightly, and Villetta pointed her arm at Lloyd, watching as a holographic sight appeared just above her wrist. Lloyd paled, and nodded stiffly, his pale blue hair flopping as he did.

"I can trust you with the diagnostics yourself?" He murmured.

"Yes, you can," Villetta replied, unable to hide the triumph in her voice. As she watched the scientist return to ordering his underlings about, she heard her name being called, and turned around, searching for the source of the voice.

"Villetta – _Villetta!_ " The voice was tinny, electronic, and it took several moments for Villetta to realise it was coming from her bracer. She pressed a small button near its middle, and spoke into it.

"This is Nu. Something wrong?"

" _Is something wrong?"_ The voice on the other end echoed, incredulous, and Villetta suddenly realised who was calling her.

"Jeremiah! Sorry, I was doing maintenance on my gauntlet, had it turned off –"

"Get changed and be at the Knightmare Bay ASAP," her commanding officer ordered, frustration evident in his voice.

"I'll be right there," Villetta replied, shooting out of her chair, grabbing her jacket and making a beeline for the exit.

True to her word, she arrived in the Knightmare Bay mere minutes later, still zipping up the front of her streamlined black flightsuit. On the catwalk in front of her, leaning against the railings and looking out at the docked Knightmares below, Jeremiah Gottwald stood tall, clad in his flightsuit with his dark turquoise hair expertly combed and his posture perfect.

"What's the situation?" Villetta called, walking out onto the catwalk, towards her superior. Jeremiah glared at her for a moment with frustrated orange eyes, before sighing.

"Several groups of Sutherlands are making their way through the city. They're not transmitting any IFF signals, so we can assume they're not military," Jeremiah said.

"Then what?" Villetta asked, frowning. "Terrorists?"

Jeremiah shook his head, and looked away for a moment, hesitating.

"We have it on good authority that those are Black Dragon units," he finally said.

Immediately, Villetta's gaze hardened, and she cast a look down at the Knightmares below, before looking back at Jeremiah.

"Is there anything else?" She asked, voice heavy.

"…Apparently, they intercepted the royal convoy of Princess Euphemia. They've kidnapped her."

Villetta began to stalk the length of the catwalk, seething. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's go!" She growled, indicating two raven-black Sutherlands near the front of the bay.

"No," Jeremiah replied, shaking his head. "Not until I know you can keep a clear head out there."

"What do you mean?" Villetta grunted, meeting his gaze.

"It means I don't want another death on my conscience because you charged ahead blindly," Jeremiah replied, voice firm. "I know you blame yourself for what happened –"

Villetta turned away, fists clenching.

"- But I need you to stay sharp. Anything less, I'll find someone else. Understood?" Jeremiah asked, stepping beside his Lieutenant.

"…Understood," Villetta replied, sharply.

"Good. Now get ready. We need to leave as soon as possible –" Jeremiah began to speak, only to be cut off by a new voice.

" _No._ "

The two officers turned, watching as someone else stepped out onto the catwalk.

"My Lord…" Jeremiah murmured, bowing slightly and indicating for Villetta to do the same. She did so, after a moment's hesitation. "Is something the matter?" Jeremiah asked, standing straight again.

"The princess is missing. What isn't the matter?" Came the reply, laced with frustration.

"I understand, My Lord, but we're heading out right now to bring her back –"

"I'm coming with you."

Villetta grimaced, but if Jeremiah had any reaction, he didn't show it. "Of course, My Lord," he replied, bowing his head.

"I will be taking command of this operation, as Princess Euphemia's Knight –"

Jeremiah's eyes widened, but he made no attempt at a protest.

"-and as her Royal Consort. Do I make myself clear?"

"…Yes, My Lord," Jeremiah murmured. Villetta echoed him a moment afterward, and the two watched as the new arrival stepped out onto the catwalk.

His black and gold flightsuit was tight against his athletic form, twin shortswords were strapped to his black, and he wore a winged, golden badge on his chest. His face was young, but hard, and his green eyes were narrowed into a deadly glare behind curly chestnut bangs.

"I trust you two to follow my lead," Suzaku Kururugi spoke. "Mount up."

* * *

 **Sorry I've been gone so long! Christmas. That's a thing that exists, apparently. And university. _Things are crazy._ But hopefully, I can keep a consistent flow of content up. Unlike all the other times where I've hoped I could keep said consistent content flow up, and instead, the flow's just gone down, spiralling into an abyss like all semblance of reason did in R2's latter half. **

**Collective Unconscious? World of C? Wha?**


	7. Interlude 02 - What Lelouch Saw

_Code Geass is property of Sunrise and CLAMP._

 _Mortal Kombat is property of Netherrealm Studios._

* * *

 ** _CODE GEASS: BLOOD AND ICE_**

* * *

Lelouch pulled the sheets up closer around himself, trying to ignore the pulsing ache in his forehead and jaw. Early evening light filtered in through the tall windows beside his bed, seemingly focused on the discarded gi slung over the chair at his desk. Lelouch glanced at the gi, and at the spots of blood down its front, before huffing and rolling over in bed, burying his face in the pillow.

He heard the door creak open painfully slowly, and listened as light footsteps inched their way toward his bed. When the new arrival was only a few feet away, just beside the bed, he spoke.

"I don't care if you're sorry, Euphie –"

"You need to get better at recognising footsteps, Lelouch," his mother admonished, resplendent in her rich blue evening gown, the evening light catching her lustrous black hair and piercing pale blue eyes.

"Mom –" Lelouch bolted upright in bed, the sheets falling to his waist. Marianne scrutinised the tiny nicks and cuts dotting his torso, and then met her son's eyes again.

"Cornelia told me what happened," she said, abrupt. "That, after Euphemia beat you, you stormed off instead of properly paying respects."

Lelouch blushed darkly in embarrassment, but didn't reply, crossing his arms and avoiding his mother's gaze. She sighed deeply, and leant down, gently grabbing his chin and turning his head to face her.

"You are a Prince of Britannia, and you are ten years old. You should know better than to act like that, especially during kombat," Marianne admonished. "We treat our opponents with respect, even when they're our own flesh and blood."

"But it wasn't _fair,"_ Lelouch finally croaked out, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Marianne frowned, letting him go as she sat beside him on the bed.

"What wasn't?" She asked, watching as her young son drew in on himself.

"The fight. I planned it out _perfectly,"_ Lelouch muttered. "All the right techniques that I needed to beat her. And she…I hit her once, maybe twice."

"And why do you think that is?" His mother asked, gently stroking Lelouch's back. Lelouch murmured something inaudible, and Marianne tilted her head, frowning.

"Don't mumble, Lelouch –"

"Because she was trained better!" Lelouch suddenly barked. Marianne drew back slightly, watching as Lelouch glared at her – then remembered himself, resting his chin on his knees and looking away from her.

"All the other children train with the Emperor or the Knights of the Round, every day. I don't," Lelouch murmured, before glancing at his mother again. "Why?"

Marianne sighed, and Lelouch watched as she struggled to find an answer.

"Lelouch," she began, haltingly, "I've been a soldier. I've fought in war, I've taken life…"

"And?" Lelouch muttered.

"And I don't want that life for you. You're my _son,_ " Marianne finished, enveloping Lelouch in a hug.

"…Why?" Lelouch asked.

"Because you deserve better," his mother murmured. "You're so brilliantly smart, you know. Smarter than I could ever hope to be. I don't want that mind of yours wasted in the ring, or battered to the point of uselessness…"

Marianne pulled back, and Lelouch could see her eyes shining in the low light.

"But, we have to…" Lelouch murmured, clueless. "All the Emperor's children have to…"

"Don't worry about that," his mother replied. "Don't."

Lelouch frowned, running the words over in his mind, but his mother seemed to be speaking nonsense. He couldn't ignore his royal duty any more than Euphemia, Clovis or Cornelia could.

"Here," his mother sighed, pulling the sheets up over him again. "Sit back. I'll tell you a story."

"A _story_?" Lelouch echoed. "I'm ten, I'm –"

"Not old enough for stories," his mother finished for him. Lelouch quieted, and sat back in bed, watching as his mother settled on the side of the bed, thinking for a moment.

"This is a story of a legendary band of warriors, who lived in a faraway land," his mother began. "Their enemies called them "Forest Demons," but they called themselves " _Lin Kuei._ "

* * *

Lelouch couldn't remember when he'd fallen asleep. His mother's tale had been full of adventure, combat, old rivalry – and yet it was slipping away from him, all but the basest fragments falling away like a half-remembered dream. He groaned, sitting up in bed, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The curtains were pulled, and he pulled the nearest one open slightly, gazing out of the window at the pitch-black outside.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Lelouch reached out to the side of the bed, looking for the light switch. His fingers passed over the familiar plastic, and he pressed down – yet the room remained dark. He frowned, and swung his legs over the side of the bed, making his way towards the door. He'd ask about the lights, maybe grab something from the kitchens if possible, and then hopefully fall back asleep.

Suddenly, a sharp _pop_ sounded, from outside the door. Lelouch stopped dead in his tracks.

… _Was that a gunshot?_

Every fibre of Lelouch's being screamed at him to get back into bed, draw the sheets over his head and hide, but somehow he found himself inching closer and closer towards the door, his traitorous hand reaching out to turn the doorknob and push forward.

Swallowing, he stepped out into the darkened hallway, and looked around. He couldn't see anybody, but he could hear hurried, hushed activity beneath him, on the lower floors of the villa. Lelouch stepped forward, apprehensive, trying to follow the path towards his mother's room.

A flash of lightning illuminated the corridor, and he froze, his eyes following a wet stain of red that stained the floor in front of him.

 _Blood?_

Hands seized him by the shoulders, and Lelouch gasped in fright, stiffening as he was forcibly turned around.

"Master Lelouch…" the voice came. Lelouch recognised it as belonging to one of his mother's guardsmen. The voice was younger than most, and he struggled to put a name to it.

 _George or Jefferson or Jerimiah – something like that…_

"The villa has been breached, my prince – I'll need to take you to somewhere more secure," the guard whispered. Lelouch's breath caught in his throat, but he managed a nod. He wasn't sure if the guard could see it, but he began leading Lelouch down the corridor regardless.

"…Where's my mother?" Lelouch murmured, glancing around to try and catch a glimpse of anyone else nearby.

"She's safe, my prince," the guard responded. "I promise. Please, try to remain silent."

Lelouch nodded, face falling slightly. Something hit the floor softly behind him, and he craned his neck to see – before the guard pulled him away, behind him.

"Run, my prince!" The guard barked.

Lightning flashed, and Lelouch saw a man, dressed in black combat gear and a balaclava, level a shortsword at him. The guard barked a challenge, and as the man looked to him, he charged. Lelouch didn't need to be told twice – he took off down the corridor, his heart pounding.

 _Who are they? Have they come for Mother? Me? Nunnally?_

Lelouch raced down the corridors, barely able to see two feet in front of him. He felt along the walls, trying to tell where he was going. Suddenly, his foot came down on something wet and pointed, and he hissed in pain, stumbling against the wall and looking around vainly for whatever he'd stepped on.

The lightning came again, and Lelouch's blood chilled.

 _A…head._

Clad in a black balaclava like his previous assailant, the head stared up at the ceiling, lifeless and bloodied. Lelouch felt revulsion stir his stomach as his eyes trailed the length of spine still attached to the neck, and he stepped back, his breath coming faster and faster.

 _Out. I need to get out._

 _Need to find Mother._

Lelouch began fumbling in the dark, reaching for whatever door he could find, his breath hitching every single time a lock prevented him from hiding in the room beyond. Panicked, terrified tears began to slide down his cheeks, and a breathless sob escaped him as he struggled with door after door.

Finally, one gave way, and he bolted into the room, turning and shutting the door behind him. Over the sound of his own laboured breathing, he could hear something else – crying.

 _Nunnally._

Lelouch began to look for the source of the noise, and felt around for his surroundings. There was a bed in the middle of the room, he soon realised, far larger than his.

 _This is Mother's room._

"Nunnally…" Lelouch called, softly. "Nunnally…"

The crying ceased, briefly, and Lelouch got on all fours, looking underneath the bed. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear his younger sister hiccupping, struggling to keep quiet.

"L-Lelouch?" Nunnally whispered, voice laced with panic.

"Nunnally, we need to go. Someone's in the villa, they –"

"No...," his sister murmured. "Hiding. Can't go."

" _Nunnally…_ ," Lelouch groaned, "come on!"

" _No!_ " Nunnally replied, a little too loudly. Lelouch cringed, and glanced back at the door, before crawling underneath the bed, towards his sister.

The door creaked open.

Lelouch's heart leapt, and he held his breath, feeling around for his sister. His hand found her shoulder, and he moved closer to her, trying to look out from underneath the bed as someone stepped towards the foot of the bed.

Suddenly, a hand seized his ankle, painfully hard, and Lelouch shrieked as he was dragged out from underneath the bed, hitting his head on the bedframe in the process. He groaned, holding a hand to his head, and let out a yelp as he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Screams began to fill the room as Nunnally was dragged out as well, and as lightning flashed again, Lelouch could see her thrashing violently in the grip of another masked man. She clawed wildly at her assailant's face, screeching, when suddenly there was a flash of steel, and the girl let out a shrill shriek of pain.

There was a sharp, metallic sound from behind, and he turned over, barely able to make out the form of a man with a blade in his hand. Lelouch began to back up, stopping only when his back hit the wall. The man stepped in front of him, and Lelouch looked up, his eyes widening as he made out the image of the man raising the blade over his head, to strike down, to strike him. He could hear Nunnally sobbing.

Something roared, or someone – whatever it was slammed into the man, knocking him down to the ground. Lelouch crawled into the corner, eyes squeezed shut, listening as fists met flesh, bones broke and the men let out strangled screams. Finally, the noise stopped, and Lelouch opened his eyes, only to look away, cringing, as a bright light shone in his face.

"Lelouch…" his mother murmured, and he looked up, squinting through the flashlight's beam. His mother's face was tired, expression tight, and liberally splattered with blood. Lelouch swallowed, but reached out regardless, hugging her for a moment before she pulled away. Lelouch's eyes followed the beam of light, watching as Marianne searched for Nunnally, calling her name softly, trying to find the source of the fearful, pained sobbing. He heard his mother let out a soft, mournful noise, whispering his sister's name as the cries became muffled.

Finally, when she pulled back from a tight embrace, Lelouch saw his sister in the beam of the flashlight, and gasped.

The entire right side of her face was caked in blood, a long, narrow cut trailing down the right side of her face and over her eye. Marianne whispered instructions to her, tearing off a piece of her own nightgown and pressing it to Nunnally's wound. The girl nodded meekly, still struggling to hold back her cries as Marianne stood, and looked back to Lelouch, handing him the flashlight.

"Stay with your sister. Don't make a sound. I'll be back soon."

With those words, Lelouch's mother was gone, disappearing through the doorway again before Lelouch could manage any kind of protest. He nodded to himself, and took Nunnally's hand.

The two hid under the bed for several minutes, but those minutes were spent in fearful anticipation of who might come through the doorway next. Every sound of battle that echoed down the corridor had Lelouch's heart pounding faster and faster, and it was only two minutes after one last, gurgling cry had sounded, that the two emerged from their hiding spot.

Lelouch guided Nunnally through the doorway, hesitantly shining the flashlight down the corridor to light their path. He tried to ignore the blood staining the floor and walls, and kept the beam of the flashlight away from them as best he could to avoid frightening his little sister any further.

Finally, the two came to the foyer of the villa, and Lelouch swallowed as he shone the flashlight down the length of the stairs that led to the ground floor.

Bodies, both of the Royal Guard and the assassins trailed down the length of the ornate staircase, blood staining the marble stone. Slowly, Lelouch helped his sister down the stairs, trying his best not to step on any corpses. Already, he was sick to his stomach – the stench of death was thick in the air.

The flashlight fell on an anomaly in the midst of black clothing and tailored uniforms – a bare arm, lithe and feminine, stained with blood.

Lelouch's heart stopped for a moment, horror flooding his senses as the beam crept lower and lower, down the arm, towards its owner, and he shook his head, collapsing back on the steps, because that woman riddled with knives and bullets, that _dead_ woman, it couldn't be his mother, it _couldn't –_

Lelouch screamed.


End file.
